Blue Eyes
by The Cure
Summary: Chrissy is in the waves of her life dealing as a friend to Peter Parker and her attempts to accomplish her dreams. But in the wave of her life how will she manage what is coming?PLEASE REVIEW, THANKS! attention: FIXED (I think)
1. Default Chapter

Life has always been a box of chocolates like they say in Forrest Gump. I think my life has matched its meaning to the situation now. I actually read the book once. Sad story, full of adventures, that kind of thing. Now, having a 'rock-in-roll lifestyle doesn't mean I'm just a petty woman screeching her imperious thoughts on stage.  
  
Nothing like that- at least, I hope not.  
  
I guess that's why I ended up here.  
  
Here, in NYC's finest, wait no, scratch that, worst public school in mid town Queens. But there are advantages to old schools as always.  
  
That's where my life took the turn.  
  
My name's Crissy, Crissy Vernando, a senior in Midtown high. Only thing I have to say is four more days, and I'm outta here.  
  
Yippee!  
  
Scanning over my thoughts as always sitting sideways l turned over to the person beside me, Peter Parker. As he was pushing in the B.u.m. glasses that were attempting to unmercifully slide off he turned grinning at my chuckling form.  
  
Peter and I met most-unusually.  
  
In the first grade, I was rather; well, delirious with the types of foods I recently ate. The very first day in the cafeteria and I didn't know anyone or anything about the rules of the elementary kids.  
  
Walking up to Peter's table oblivious that he sat there, I set down my container of macaroni & cheese, beginning to mash them up. Guess that's when Peter came up with his chicken salad looking upon me nervously. I don't blame him, since he started to talk to me a while later I was informed he was one of the school's geeks, freaks.  
  
Poor guy, there the future photographer was, watching me squish the  
beautiful creation into pure cheese in my dirty khakis and black sweat  
jacket. Glancing up at the nervous classmate, I flashed him a cheerful  
smile staring into his genuine blue irises. Telling him to sit next to  
me, I returned my attention back to the cheese starting to mash it up  
some more.  
  
No wonder he just calls Crissy Vernando a friend.  
  
Strangely becoming close friends, me and Harry Osborn, son of Norman Osborn were the only ones who thought he was 'delightful.' The wealthy guy didn't speak to me much, only got to observe him as he pulled Peter along the wide halls full of blubbering kids. Don't really know much about the wealthy friend if you ask me.  
  
Snapping into the present I tingled as I took a look at Peter's in tense blue eyes. Unknowest to my senses I began a conversation about the beautiful object I was admiring, asking him for the tenth time if he was hiding the fact that they were everyday contacts.  
  
"Not like I can buy them, anyways, this frame is better than the one with yellow Pokka dots. I swear, I looked like those old disco fashion models with the underwear & everything," Peter shuddered taking a small gulp of his Veggie Tomato juice.  
  
"I saw worse in Costco the other day, unspeakably horrifying is my only description."  
  
"Show me later, I'll give a decision," he joked tipping his chestnut brown hair. Feeling the throat deliver a small laugh made me feel a bit closer to him, yet I remembered I would always play second fiddle.  
  
Always.  
  
Shaking off these thoughts my ears picked up the ringing song of a school bell.  
  
Maybe not, maybe I can reach him someday.  
  
But that's just a guess. 


	2. The Bad Guys

Harry pulled Peter away from me. Again, just as I was about to ask him about the TEST in chemistry!  
  
ARRRRGH!!!!!!I'M GOING TO FAIL ON THIS MISERBLY!!  
  
Grumbling at my settled fate, my feet pushed the ladies room open coming upon several girls with twenty different shades of lipstick. Sneaking in my bathroom stall haven I glanced at at the tissue feeling my lips grow wide. Stealing a paper tissue to cover your nose is a splendid thing believe me, it's blissful with the clothful goodness.  
  
Stumbling with effort to prevent the stall's door slamming on my nose the tissue flew unwillingly into the basket as I moaned with grief. Glancing back to the girls with their full on of gossip and excitement over graduation day made me cheery, I must admit,  
  
&I joined the trio. Digging into my small blue purse I fished out the black rubber hair product.  
  
Wait, is this color black blue?  
  
Appling the pencil eyeliner on, my mind vaguely remembered my liquid incident when I was 12-yrs old. Chuckling, my hand delt with my green eye shadow listening to the domestic adventures of my fellow restroom crew.  
  
Dolly, a lively girl, life full of bouncy hair chattered away smoothing her blonde hair.  
  
"Flash actually asked me to dance with that smug look on is face and gave me his jock clothes," she boasted flipping the hair back tensely with the conversation of Dolly's triumph..  
  
"The uniform?" Betsey, a friendly freshman inquired.  
  
"Duh, no," Dolly snorted, "His freakin jacket."  
  
As I started to sigh due to the mindless conversation about a blue jacket, my feet slipped against the pavement.  
  
I went down.  
  
"Oof!"  
  
Gosh, that hurts-a lot especially when you land on your butt. Worse than enduring a four hour movie. (Although it's worth It. *)  
  
Amazingly, I blacked all of a sudden, I know it; for in a second I was looking onto someone's dark scarlet heels. Small, beautiful fit feet, compared to my huge feet.  
  
"You ok Crissy?"  
  
Looking up finally, I saw the apple of Peters eye, the center of his heart, someone who was my close friend when others had their back turned. Gosh, this keeps getting worse as my fortune goes.  
  
Mary Jane Watson.  
  
This was the woman who never smashed her cafeteria food with a simple metal spoon. Unlike, our unlucky candidate Crissy here.  
  
Agreeing to my predicament, I held out my hand I realized it was filthy with bathroom toilet water.  
  
Ugh! Blushing, my wits gathered yet, without another incident my feet sat comfortly, happy to be on the solid tile ground. MJ, MJ, I don't know, but my hopes fade whenever I'm around her, something depressing heaves on me. Even though she's one nice person & I'm probably being stupid-God, I don't know, this isn't like me to think such.  
  
Am I. jealous?  
  
I don't want to be like that; whatever I feel can't let myself sink into that level. If Crissy did.. Won't I be the bad guy? 


	3. What direction is my path?

I think I did ok at least. Maybe chemistry isn't so hard.  
  
I won't be able to find out my result though, assembly's in two minutes according to the broken school speaker. Something seemed wrong in the woman's voice though, although I don't know what. Hehe, maybe I'm being simply being paranoid. Yet, looking across the room my eyes caught a sight of something, oddly familiar about my seat across Dolly Stromms, and her expression. Sitting in the way front the girl received a whisper from the teacher just a minute -then her face went blank.  
  
Maybe there is something wrong.  
  
I knew that look before, someone who was about to burst into uncontrollable tears. Unfortunaly the others saw it & started to point and whisper.  
  
My brain is about to go back when I recall Harry Osborn acting in this way. Jeez, that one morning he brushed past me in the hall roughly without an apology! My mouth opened and formed a growl as he did. My cheeks went hot with anger as my shoulder blazed with pain.  
  
Even at eight Harry was pretty strong. Peter came straight running towards him despite the plea for demanding walkways. As Peter ran I managed to grab his small little sleeve with blue stripes.  
  
"Peter, what's wrong?"  
  
"His mother," he answered grimacing, "She died last night, Harry got the message just a few minutes ago." To my observing my friend started to shiver.  
  
Whoa.  
  
A few days later mom gave me a sympathy card with a Bible verse and all that covered with gold glitter. And all I could do was sneeze on it.my bad.  
  
When I gave the infested card to Peter's 'best friend,' he just stared at it, snatched it, & threw the card away, precisely in a tantrum. Insulted, I never came and started up a conversation for he scared me, and my reasons were based on this evidence of a flash back.  
  
Who knows what he will become with that strength.and unfair anger toward the people who support him.  
  
Back into the present I stare sadly at Dolly.  
  
What will I become? 


	4. Corn Chips

Oh no! No!  
  
I can't play my viola in front of the whole school right now! I mean I have to:  
  
Rosin my bow, Take my viola out, tighten the bow, get the notes out, and get rid of the corn chips in the front pocket of my cargo pants.  
  
Freaking long list isn't it?  
  
Mr. Ambrose, my music instructor, with the ups and downs of his personality looked at me earlier across the assembly room full of chattering students. My curious mind had wondered what he was up to, & found out.  
  
He was going to make us play 'Jurassic Park Theme' again.  
  
Oh dear, not again. Grabbing my best friend and me with our collars (cept we didn't have any*) away from the corner of the room into the backstage. Vashti, with her short black hair and mischievous eyes, could pass for the most enthusiastic person besides Peter and the Avid Teacher in room 208 for my best friend. Peeking through the purple curtain, yes, purple curtains, my eyes darted around spotting Peter in the back of the room. The familiar blue orbs crashed onto mine and I was in the wave of the oceans, heart racing.  
  
Then, instead of waving with the fingers curled or showing a smile or anything, the only thing my hand could show was the peace sign. Just then, my cheeks went crimson red when it hit me.  
  
I never had the experience of flirting with a guy, and wasn't doing a good job at the moment.  
  
Wait, but surprisingly, he raised his fingers and shyly did the same. Oh-wow!  
  
But, sigh, sadly I had to move the mood of the parade.and get rid of those corn chips. OHHH, why did I have to perform now? Not that I'm complaining, but I was looking forward to those chips. Whatever, guess I'll have to sneak them past my teacher.  
  
"Crissy, come on we're up!"  
  
Coming out of my head I looked back at Vashti who was now, far from where I stood.  
  
My Bad.  
  
Jogging over as my corn chips were smashed against my leg my vision swam over to where my friends where sitting. Clumsily, I took my seat and adjusted my shoulder rest to where it wouldn't slip off.  
  
Our teacher, who was brushing his entire mustache, tapped the long stick motioning for us to begin.  
  
Up down went my bow squeaking against my ear. Vashti's face was pained; I suppose she was tired from those brain-racking finals. God help us & know an early assembly schedule.  
  
As soon as we were in the last note, the instructor waved to signal. Gosh, finally we're done. Placing the viola in rest position, the principle finally walked up front.  
  
CRRRRRUUUUNKKKK  
  
What was that?  
  
POPPPPPP!!!  
  
Uh-oh, I think that was my corn chips; I need to put them away. Now! .Gosh you can't do anything about it now Crissy, the principle's about to speak. .  
  
Mrs. Flower, completely in line with the color hot pink, is the principle of my highshool. Oh yeah, and the exact person who suggested pink, hot pink, and purple for our spirit colors. Great for the cheerleaders, but the guys?  
  
And nobody came up with our problem at all.  
  
"Dear young ladies and gentlemen," she began, beaming with that smile on her face as usual. Sometimes, when I look at that smile closely.  
  
It looks fake.  
  
Then it usually turns out that-something had happened. Now you would think I'm just anti-social, staring into strangers with a sign on my slightly acne infested forehead that speaks out:  
  
GET-AWAY-FROM-ME. 


	5. Late for the bus?

I think my corn chips just popped thoroughly.  
  
And are coming into my pants. Well, here I was, still stuck on the assembly stage while my corn chips fell through my pocket producing a crunching sound. The principle Mrs. Flower who was taking several moments out of my time to get those chips out of my hands.  
  
No-hair.  
  
"I have some very important news," she started & clasped her hands together. "We have a couple of changes this week. I have plucked a few strings to send the science classes to Colombia University instead of on Thursday.tomorrow. Students, this is a fantastic opportunity to look at the world's nature and experiments. You will arrive the same time we have given for you to remember sharp, always keep in mind." Deep breath.  
  
"The bus will not wait for you."  
  
After signaling over a fifty teachers the principle finally let us leave the room in 'single file.' As usual, the lines broke apart and everyone went to meet with, well, somebody else. Vashti and I, after packing up the equipment for the orchestra, met up with Peter. In his right side teeth, was celery he kept munching on before he even acknowledged us.  
  
"Nice hand technique you have their Cris," Peter complimented not even trying to break our eye contact. Me, who started blushing all over again, gulped.  
  
THANK YOU! THANK YOU! Was all I wanted to say.  
  
Heart stopped unfortunately.  
  
I even felt the neck deliver a huge bump that traveled down into my stomach full of butterflies.  
  
Blew It.  
  
"Thanks," I croaked when, completely ruining the moment, Harry pushed in.  
  
Vashti, walking directly besides me, has an extreme liking for the style of British hair and you can tell, her eyes were full of sparkling lights right when he barged in. . "Crissy, he has British hair," she whispered excitedly while shooting glances back at Harry a couple of times.  
  
"Um Vashti," my voice hissed in pain, she was tugging at my arm's skin!  
  
Believe me, I am in 3rd place for being the most skinniest female in my classes & the whole school. Specifically, my arm hurts.  
  
But nooo, she was too deep in the conversation between Peter and Harry to let me go.  
  
OW, OW, Owww.  
  
"Hey Peter," Harry spoke, "You gonna be there for the bus tomorrow bud?" Grinning devishly he poked Peter in the ribs with his elbow.  
  
Rolling those blue eyes, Peter replied, "Yeah, sure Harry, whatever you say. " So the whole joke backfired on Harry. Obviously Osborn, won't make it, but not for tardiness. Gosh, it's just that he is rich, and if he's rich the father might say-  
  
"Who needs a bus?"  
  
For Peter, I have seen him attempt to catch a bus for, like, a whole year.  
  
He won't make the bus. 


	6. In other words

Peter didn't make it.  
  
Wasn't his fault either though, the bus took off before he could even reach the doors. Let me tell you, our driver, Mr. Polios, isn't as friendly in his baseball cap as he looks. Polios just isn't the guy where you can go up to him and share the latest baseball score or tell how you caught your boyfriend sticking his finger into a mouth of a Macy's cashier.  
  
On the day of the field trip to Columbia University, everyone was on the bus, including Vashti and I. Vashti, who was silently scanning a book she borrowed from the library looked up at me. Oh, I was just listening to the latest Trapt album, nothing was really happening that moment.  
  
Until Peter rounded the corner.  
  
You know, the bus faced backwards, I couldn't see him, so don't blame me for not warning him.  
  
Then the bus started to move.  
  
Whispering started to move about the isles rising into hoots of laughter.  
  
Lowering my headphone, my face turned to Vashti. She too was confused.  
  
"What are they staring at?"  
  
The left of my shoulder shrugged.  
  
"Someone took of their shirt?" It was a point; the girl's heads were all turning around, so it had to mean something.  
  
But Vashti wasn't paying any attention & all I could see was the back of her head. Curious, my head swiveled to the direction all eyes were heading.  
  
...And there was Peter Parker, in his dress clothes, running with red sneakers, shouting with all the effort.  
  
"Stop the bus! Hey, STOP THE BUS!"  
  
The driver couldn't hear the man though, too busy as the guys laughed, slapping each other's backs.  
  
MJ paid attention to the whole thing next to Eugene, the football star.  
  
Schools nicknames Flash, though I prefer Eugene.  
  
Wrapping his arms capturing Mary in his bear hug, Eugene joined in with the laughter.  
  
She didn't like it at all.  
  
Finally her face flaring with temper, her small hand pushed of Eugene making the stupid jock fall back.  
  
Clenching the small fists, Mary Jane Watson confronted Polios balancing on her 7-inch boots. Me? Tried, yet couldn't do such a thing, I -can't even balance on my own 3-inch heels!  
  
Darn.  
  
A few moments later, Mary came back to her place near the jock, successful in persuading the driver to hit the breaks.  
  
Peter, bedraggled, camera case & everything, jumped on immediately just in case Polios had other ideas.  
  
"Oh man," Vashti murmured, tugging on my sleeve again. This time I didn't mind, a foot was stretched in the middle of the isle.  
  
"That's Eugene's foot," I answered.  
  
Oblivious of the tennis shoe, Parker walked through the rows in search of an available seat.  
  
Even the guy holding the jelly doughnut wouldn't oblige.  
  
And before my lips could finish the sentence, Peter hit the floor, books scattering while snickering was heard.  
  
Recovering slowly, Peter propped himself upright, eyes flashing with pain glaring in Eugene's way.  
  
His Chemistry book lay at my feet.  
  
MJ had enough of it. Jumping from her spot, Mary Jane was now at her knees helping Peter pick up most of his textbooks. The boyfriend didn't look t happy.  
  
Finally my sandals gained balance and I too, was up there handing the back book that slid my way.  
  
Kneeling down, my hands started to straighten his B.U.M. glasses.  
  
Stop shaking Crissy.  
  
"Thanks," he whispered to MJ cheeks red with embarrassment.  
  
"Your welcome," she replied, tucking in strands of red locks.  
  
His breath caught as I winced, stalking back to where Crissy Vernando came from.  
  
Oh well...life, in other words, sucks. 


	7. Spiderbites

It was beautiful, green fields, flowers, and millions of people who wanted to learn...  
  
But it also had changed Peter's life.  
  
"Single file when you get off people! Single file!" Right at the door was our chemistry teacher waving his arms up and down expecting to have full control.  
  
Yet everyone was too excited to comply, we were in downtown Manhattan, and that is speaking on higher terms if you know what I mean.  
  
So there we were: Vashti, Crissy, Peter, &...  
  
Guess Harry didn't arrive yet.  
  
"Wow," Peter breathed. He wasn't called the geek for nothing, oh no, Peter, had a gift for science. Parker has lived at it completely since I met him and longer.  
  
Peter's life wasn't so simple actually, to your surprise; he never actually met his mom & pop.  
  
The guy was an orphan.  
  
Although they aren't there, he isn't little orphan Annie. Right in front of my back yard back in suburban Queens is Pete lives. In the custody of Aunt May & Uncle Ben.  
  
So why do I hang out with him? Simple. Besides the blue eyes and that mad scientist brain of his, Peter actually had a personality-and a life.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
His hand replied for him, pulling me closer by the shoulder.  
  
"That's Dr. Conners of ESU," Peter whispered.  
  
The first thing I saw to where Peter was pointing was a man in trousers. Didn't look like anything was paranormal with the guy, just a tourist in beige trousers.  
  
Wait...  
  
"The man from that assembly last weekend? That one who was showing us the genetics of lizards?" Vashti recalled, glancing over to a curve where a limousine was parked.  
  
My bad.  
  
"Here comes Harry," I commented, "We'll meet up with you two later."  
  
Then, carefully lifting my feet to avoid any more twisting, I walked over to the staircase holding on to the black railing for support.  
  
RRRRR...  
  
Looking over my shoulder I saw Peter wave striding over to Harry.  
  
Harry stepped out his father following at his heels.  
  
Norman Osborn.  
  
********  
  
Faster.... Faster.... Crissy, go FASTER!  
  
"Wait up!"  
  
Well, it's not a staircase, but it is hard to catch up with your best friend in high heels.  
  
Inside the Building of Colombia University, there were many interesting stuff. Every single glance you took, there would always be some type of case containing a mongoose or something.  
  
Even the possums didn't look normal.  
  
Vashti giggled staring down at my blistered feet.  
  
"Better put some medicine on that Crissy," she laughed.  
  
"Thanks for your encouragement," I grumbled, "Next day I will be completely infected."  
  
Turning my attention back to the tour guide, I realized we where standing near a spider's case.  
  
Mary Jane stood by observing closely at the little wonders.  
  
Harry walked up to her.  
  
"Disgusting aren't they?"  
  
MJ, taking her green eyes of the case, shook her head.  
  
"Of course not, I think they're beautiful."  
  
"You know," Harry, murmured, " That spiders change their color? It's a defense mechanism."  
  
Um, It is?  
  
Wait a minute-isn't that what Peter had said earlier after Mary told that one of the spiders was missing?  
  
Smiling, the trapped woman nodded her head, turning away. God, was he flirting with her? Last month Osborn had the hots for some new student from Oregon. Memorized a problem from the math book, thinking he would get away with it by helping her in class.  
  
Needless to say, the girl never maintained an A on her upcoming test that semester.  
  
Wordlessly, I watched as Watson smiled at another case, obviously checking her hair.  
  
Peter saw whole thing then.  
  
.... Maybe he planned for it to happen. Whatever he did, Peter's face was ashen, taking closer steps up to the red head, camera held levelly.  
  
"Can I take your picture? It's for the school paper & I need a student in it." The girl turned; surprised that he was even there.  
  
"Sure," she grinned turning her back, "Just don't make me look ugly."  
  
"That's impossible," he protested backing up slowly.  
  
My face feels hot. Jeez, get a hold of yourself. But this situation was too familiar; I'm a girl in love with someone who will never return the favor. Unfortunately it always turns out that way. But it's ok to look right?  
  
"Just a little over there.... Yeah-perfect."  
  
Caught up in my mixed feeling, I didn't take notice that a spider was crawling from its web.  
  
Right to where Peter's hand was.  
  
MJ playfully posed by pointing her hand into the science brochure.  
  
The spider landed on its destination.  
  
Sadly, for Peter, a well-known cheerleader called MJ over, ruining his perfect moment.  
  
"Thanks!"  
  
O my god, a spider!  
  
"Peter, there's a spider on your hand.... It's the one from the lab!"  
  
Peter was confused.  
  
"What?"  
  
Too late-again.  
  
Sinking in its fangs, the spider released the venom.  
  
"AUGH!"  
  
"Peter? O gosh, did it bit you?" Racing over, I grabbed his swelling hand.  
  
Did I just do that with my heels?  
  
"Yes."  
  
Taking a closer view, my mouth opened slightly releasing a small gasp.  
  
"That's the genetically altered spider from the case," It felt like some punched me in the stomach. The thing looked like he got attacked from the bumblebee queen or something. "We should get someone to look at that." Have to convince him, be firm.  
  
"Really," Peter shrugged, "I'll be fine, just get a few of those cream bottles and it will be fine."  
  
"Ok, just don't point your finger at me if you collapse in your bedroom."  
  
"You sound like Aunt May," he chuckled.  
  
My cheeks probably looked red because the guy smiled.  
  
"Thanks for your concern, I really appreciate it."  
  
I need a drink.  
  
"Yeah, well, just don't call for help when another spider gets emotionally attracted to you," my voice rasped.  
  
Peter stared for a moment.  
  
Before I could turn red all over again a voice was heard over to where the group was.  
  
Oops.  
  
"Parker, let's do it!" 


	8. Food Experiment

I have one question:  
  
Am I that boring?  
  
Just after that field trip to Colombia, Peter and I took a bus home. There I was, sitting besides him, babbling about the time I almost whacked someone over with a bogie board in the snow after Vashti left. Sure, the poor guy didn't get killed to spice up the story, but at least he's all right.  
  
Then Peter fell asleep; right in the middle of the story.  
  
I propped my elbow on the window gazing outside, completely bored. Finally as we reached our neighborhood street I turned back to face him.  
  
"Hey Pete, you awake, It's our stop. Hello?"  
  
And there he was, sleeping in the same position, with streams of sweat dripping from his cheeks. Eventually the bus driver, Mr. Polios got irritated, turning from the wheel.  
  
"Hey sweetie," he said, "That kid gonna wake up or what? I don't have all the time in the world you know." Ok, I was trying the best I can, & it was especially hard doing without pulling that stupid cap over the guy's face.  
  
RRRRRR.  
  
Blinded by anger, I stepped on Peter's foot.  
  
Oops.  
  
One of his blue eyes slid open blinking at me. Groggily, Peter sat up groaning with the effort. Quickly, I forgot about the bus driver handing him a tissue from my pocket. You see, I have strong allergies, so if a piece of dust flew by my nose-well, need a tissue in case that ever happens.  
  
.... And that's often.  
  
Gratefully, Peter took it wiping the swollen face.  
  
"Better now?"  
  
"Yeah," he said, "Much better." Much better? I do not think so.  
  
Yet I was right, and my face turned worried despite what he said in the University. Together we walked slowly, pass Mr. Polios who was helplessly swatting away a nat that successfully ran into his nose.  
  
Waving goodbye, my feet stepped into the warmth of our house.  
  
**  
  
There is one thing my mother loves.  
  
Court TV.  
  
And I find no problem with that except.... she got the rest of us into it.  
  
Every night.  
  
When I walked into the living room it was just as I expected. Not that they do it everyday, it only starts in the late afternoon when they settle down and rest.  
  
Mom was sitting on the dark blue couch reading a Harlequin romance novel while the Forensic Files blared in the background. Finally she sat up and looked at me.  
  
"Hi baby," she gushed, "How's school?" "Fine." Making a face, I messed up her hair playfully wandering into the kitchen.  
  
It seems like she had experimented with her cooking tonight. There, in the dim light of our cozy kitchen was a pie, or something like it.  
  
Yum.  
  
"You're going to the library with Vashti, right?"  
  
"Yeah, by the way, what's in this thing?" God, it looked good.  
  
"Vegetables, olives, meat, & cheese. I'll go call your sister to eat," she replied, looking pleased at the sight of my watering mouth. Nodding my head quickly, I sat down.  
  
"How's Aunt May & Peter?"  
  
My hands froze.  
  
"Um," I didn't know what to say, I mean, the Parker family always have their charm usually. Aunt May does the cooking most of the time when I see her. And Uncle Ben? He's doing fine as ever playing as Peter's father.... well, except the time he brought food poisoning upon the whole neighborhood with that rice he cooked up.  
  
But besides that, he is one sweet guy, and gives great advice for everyone. Jeez, he even acts like a grandpa to those kids who live five whole blocks away.  
  
"They're doing great," my voice chirped happily, "Uncle Ben told me yesterday that he's going to buy a new camera for Peter on Graduation. He says that he saved up all the extra money for it."  
  
"Don't tell Peter," the Uncle had whispered to me, "For Peter, It's a surprise better than flowers." Me, oh yeah-I had felt excited with the secret & promised to keep it silent.  
  
Now, as I sat on the cushion, mom began whistling a tune of the Disney movie Hercules then switched to Anastasia.  
  
An olive fell on my lap.  
  
But as the family sat together and ate, I never would have guessed that tonight had changed everyone's lives forever.  
  
The next day, news spread that Dr. Stromms was dead. 


	9. The Moose Napkin

He didn't have a heart attack or anything, Dr. Stromms.... was murdered.  
  
We never heard from Dolly that day.  
  
According to Harry, his father was the last one to ever see him alive. I listened tensely while Peter sat by me, eating crusty marshmallows and over-cooked meatloaf.  
  
There were two surprises; one of them was Peter Parker without the B.U.M. lens equipment. My mouth had dropped open the first time I saw him at first lunch period. There he was, in a blue sweater and jeans patiently waiting for the cafeteria woman who dropped the meatloaf onto the pickles. The world felt alive and I was quick to avert my gaze.  
  
Whoa....  
  
He slide next to me, with the fork already stuck in his mouth.  
  
"So do you really think he was murdered?" Patty Matron, our school reporter, was furiously taking notes while Harry repeated his story all over again.  
  
"Seems like," he said. "That's what they say."  
  
Pat looked up from the 1subject binder notebook with Pooh stickers plastered all over the cover. "Seems like? They just said he was murdered, no evidence at all?"  
  
Harry frowned as I choked on my soda, "Look, I just came home with my father asleep on the floor. Then his employees come and tell dad that his partner's murdered after dodging our creepy butler. That's the only thing I know, ok?"  
  
My Sunkist started to dribble down the side of my mouth, which completely stained my gray sweatshirt.  
  
Jeez. I am a very messy person if you haven't noticed. The table's all nice and clean, but when Crissy arrives?  
Oh yeah, we really got a slob over here....  
  
Peter quickly handed me one of those napkins with those pictures of a moose chewing a blueberry. I wanted to keep it so badly, put it my room somewhere or something.  
  
Aww, It dropped on a bunch of potatoes.  
  
My head went under, hand searching for the stained blueberry napkin until my nose bumped a perfectly hard boot.  
  
Ouch.  
  
"Oh, sorry Crissy."  
  
I felt numbness, which bumping a nose onto a boot does to you. Looking up, the first thing that swam in my eyes was MJ carrying her tray of food. She was smiling in her usual way, taking a few glances at Peter who dropped the meatloaf just admiring at her face. It was only then I realized that my body was still hanging over.  
  
Crissy, get up!  
  
My teeth gritted together as I forced my way up to the table. But when I turned to Peter, he wasn't staring anymore. His eyebrows were furrowed and the blue eyes widened.  
  
MJ tripped.  
  
Swiftly going into action, Peter Parker, the same one who was usually shy and told me witty comebacks when no one was looking was here now, catching MJ like one of those acrobatic guys at the circus.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem," he shrugged. His smile made me instantly feel warm and comfy like a bed surrounded by vanilla candles- though the words weren't meant for me.  
  
Back to the lunch.  
  
"You have blue eyes, I never noticed them with your glasses. Did you get contacts?"  
  
Peter smiled dumbly. One thing is that he doesn't have contacts. Why? Because the time he sat next to me, I checked. And there were no contacts, yep, nothing.  
  
She finally stepped away and hid her amazement, turning to the other table. Sighing, he sat back down about to raise his fork again....  
  
And it stuck.  
  
My eyes bulged literally, 'gosh, the lunch and now this.' Peter looked as confused as I was, holding the utensil away if it was a foreign object. He tried to unsuccessfully pull it, only producing a white...ah, string connecting to the front table.  
  
Sticky hands. That what it were, sticky hands from the Thrifty vender machines! Even though my guess was extremely possible, the victory was short-lived when a tray flew straight onto Eugene Thompson.  
  
Ok, never mind, that is definitely, not a sticky hand.  
  
Snarling, the football player covered in spaghetti and tomato sauce stomped around our tables madly, searching for the guilty.  
  
Thompson turned to Peter.  
  
"Was that you Parker?" He growled taking a sample of the sauce. Smearing it all over his knobby finger, he shoved it in Peter's way forcefully.  
  
"You-are dead Parker." 


	10. Blackout

This is not good, definitely not good.  
  
I bit my lip as my feet followed Eugene Thompson and Peter Parker into the school's main hallway. Eugene, in an angry shock from getting spaghetti sauce all over his new shirt, was on Peter's trail in full stride.  
  
What should I do? What should I do, punch him? No, I can't do something like that...to a guy as big as Thompson.  
  
Reaching for his locker, Peter quickly gathered his things.  
  
Wait a minute- he's leaving?  
  
Uh-oh. His eyes widened again and started to glance around.  
  
Clears throat.... that's when the fist comes in.  
  
Peter dodged quickly as the fist connected with the lockers. "You think you're smart you little punk? You are going to die Parker!" Eugene shook his hand, taking more unsuccessful swings. A crowd gathered immediately, leaving me, Crissy, squashed by thirty or fifty classmates.  
  
Akk!  
  
"Excuse me, excuse me!" My arms went through the wave of bodies pushing forcefully, just to get a look at the would-be-massacre. "Flash!" MJ walked quickly up to her boyfriend, her face defiant. "What are you doing?!" Everyone went out of his or her way, leaving a clear walkway for her to face the violent jock.  
  
Eugene never took his eyes of his prey, shaking off Mary, who was attempting to drag him back into the cafeteria. ....What do you think I was doing?  
  
"Excuse me!"  
  
A few moments later, Harry arrived at the scene holding a jalapeno chips bag, he stepped back, taken aback by the two crouching figures. "What's going on?"  
  
Everyone stared at him.  
  
"I don't want to fight you Flash," Peter raised his fists. Seeing that the opponent was getting ready for an attack, Eugene started to grin. Believe me, it's scary for anyone who would dare to face him.  
  
"I wouldn't want to fight me either," he snarled.  
  
That's when the fight really started.  
  
Thompson swung for five minutes, never connecting on Peter's face. I gasped, as the man who was my friend for many years was actually dodging Eugene Thompson, the same bully who had been tormenting him since elementary. I snickered.  
  
"Harry, help him!" MJ turned to Osborn.  
  
A companion finally came to the frustrated football player's side surrounding Peter menacingly. They charged full speed intending on one of their body slamming moves. They never reached him. Actually, Peter wasn't even on the ground at that time. Harry looked at MJ dumbly.  
  
"Which one?"  
  
I started to panic, released by the sweaty aurora of the crowd. For a long period of time during the fight, the perfumes and the colognes had mixed together. Except it wasn't in the safe area. Why? Because body went flying.  
  
To my surprise it was Eugene's.  
  
Okay, there is one thing you should do when a guy's heavy comes in full speed for you. Duck, you never know when you can get knocked down by his sports shoe. Two, roll, it's body weight might be too much for you to handle.  
  
To this day, I can still remember how it felt when the world had gone black. I had started to get up, thinking of ways to stop the fight. I actually found one that had worked. Peter's face changed.  
  
"Crissy!"  
  
Ouch. 


	11. Bed dreams

All I could hear was voices. They surrounded me, telling me to wake up.  
  
I didn't want to. "I think she's awake!"  
  
"Oh my god, get a nurse!"  
  
Who me? I don't want to visit the nurse. Even though I got crushed by a guy twice my size, I'm feeling perfectly fine don't you see?  
  
Okay, never mind.  
  
The cold floor felt damp and chilly, and the panicked voices were definitely getting to me. I felt a bit self-conscious, weak as I was in the middle of a huge crowd.  
  
It wasn't fun; trust me.  
  
"Crissy?" I heard Peter's voice, somewhere between the bright sparks dancing around my head. In the corner of my eye, I noticed a cockroach crawling near the exit.  
  
Omigosh.  
  
I can tickle a roly-poly and I can hold an earthworm in my hand named Squishy, but cockroaches? I'm not so sure. Get up Crissy.... come-on, get up! Get up!  
  
A hand held me back as I tried to scoot up.  
  
Please let me go. I'm fine really, just want to go home....  
  
Suddenly, a hand touched the back of my head. I heard several students take in a sharp-intake of breath.  
  
"She's bleeding."  
  
The words made Peter's eyes widen. "Cripes Crissy," he whispered. "I'm sorry." My head jerked.  
  
It really isn't your fault Peter, what can I say; I'm just a stupid Crissy.  
  
But I felt touched, and wanted to keep the words playing in my head forever.  
  
Yet the cockroach was ruining the moment.  
  
"Let's get you to the nurse." His gaze made me freeze. Yes! Please, let me get away from the floor and the cockroach. I turned my head facing the small insect. I swear, for that moment it looked like it was wearing glass shades. Maybe the blow to the head was critical.  
  
But all I could do as they dragged me to the nurse station was stare at the fashionable cockroach. Fashionable, I thought, I'm thinking that the insect was fashionable.  
  
Passing by the water fountain, I saw that it was broken, completely trashed.  
  
What happened?  
  
"Look what she did to the fountain," someone whispered. "I didn't think she could do something like that." They snorted with laughter. Vashti glared at them. Vashti? I thought she was leaving before lunch for her dentist appointment. Weird.  
  
I felt a pain shoot through my head. That must be the cut I guess. The pain finally stopped as I closed my eyes, back into unconsciousness.  
  
**  
  
"Hey Crissy, feeling better?"  
  
I opened my eyes to find Vashti at the side of the bench.  
  
.... Bench?  
  
I glanced up around the room. It was decorated with children streamers and little lollipops on the nearby desk. Yep. Definitely the nurses' office.  
  
Vashti grinned evilly, enjoying the look on my face as I noticed the jacket that was laid on top of me.  
  
My eyes stared at them like a foreign object.  
  
"Hey Vashti, aren't you suppose to be at the dentist right now?" I frowned. "Thanks for staying, I just have a bump though, honest."  
  
She rolled her eyes, "Please, you didn't just get a bump, Crissy. After Flash's body pummeled you, your entire body crashed into the water fountain."  
  
"Really? What did it look like?"  
  
She thought for a minute. Me, destroying a water fountain.... that's asking for the impossible.  
  
"Hell," she said finally. "It looked like hell. Everyone just went into chaos. You even took the attention away from Flash's broken hand. The teachers didn't think you'd make it."  
  
My voice sounded skeptical. "That bad?"  
  
"Yeah, that bad. Your head was bleeding and Peter looked like he was going to break." Vashti said. "Guess you got your wish."  
  
"About what?" Very dense answer, I know.  
  
Wasn't my fault, the biggest football player had just squashed me, and now my school probably won't have a water fountain next year at all.  
  
Maybe I'll become a school legend or something. Kids will go by this empty space in the hall and point. 'Oh yeah, that was where this loser called Crissy smashed the entire water fountain. Wonder how many times she worked out, heh heh heh.'  
  
Vashti looked at me and back at the jacket. "Peter lending you his jacket for the day of course."  
  
I was speechless.  
  
"Oops, I probably shouldn't have said that," she laughed  
  
"...Peter has a jacket?"  
  
My friend nodded, "I haven't even known he owned it until he took it out. Then he left."  
  
Wow. I felt dizzy from the news and decided I needed a nap. I glanced back at Vashti for a moment.  
  
"But really, thanks for staying though, I really appreciate it. Remind me that I owe you someday. Couldn't be left here with the tempting lollipops over there." I murmured, smile widening gleefully.  
  
"Welcome."  
  
Nodding, I snuggled back into the jacket, letting my mind drift away. 


	12. Lies behind the faces

Silence.  
  
All you can hear is silence. Something you never want to know about. But you do.  
  
That stinks doesn't it?  
  
That night was above all others. Nothing like I had ever imagined. The fan was making whispers in the humid atmosphere as I lay there. Don't ask me, but even if I was asleep, I could still hear the whispers. Shivering, I rolled over on the dry sheets.  
  
The dream came to me minutes later, immediately, like a message. I was covered in darkness, complete darkness. Calling out did me no good. Where am I? Where am I? No one answered. All seemed hopeless, like a weighing object made all other options impossible.  
  
A hand came out of all the darkness, not shining, but a hand never less. I reached out for it, only to feel discarded. Trembling I fell down. I knew what was happening, I couldn't stop it. A sinking feeling in my stomach. I was scared of heights ever since I was little. Even now, I can't even take it. Oh my gosh, help, I'm about to fall....  
  
Fall, fall into water.  
  
What I met was my carpet floor.  
  
"Ouch," I moaned, rubbing the back of my head. The stitches were still there. Terrific. The first thing I did was grab for the curtains. I wanted to get up, close my eyes, and go to sleep. No more annoying dreams. Just some sleep.  
  
"I supposed you heard that."  
  
"No, I was just going to take out the trash."  
  
My ears perked up, literally. Positioning in a sitting stance, I pulled myself up to the bed. Not hard, but something I felt would go out of my comfort zone.  
  
I pulled away the curtains, revealing MJ and Peter standing near each other- near their gates. Her dad was yelling in her house. I wondered if she was all right. She was my friend after all and pretty nice when I needed it.  
  
This is not right Crissy; kindly pull the curtains, and GET FROM THE WI NDOW!!!  
  
Can't...pull...head away. I could see Peter holding the trash bag, gripped in his hands. In a swift motion, he stuffed the garbage into the can.  
  
Grinning, I shook my head. The liar. "You must hear us shout all he time," she choked. Peter tried to smile. "Everyone shouts all the time," he said. "Listen, I-I'm really sorry about the fight today."  
  
"You scared us today," MJ said softly.  
  
"I'm sorry, is Flash alright?" I winced, turning to a neighbor's backyard party. Everyone started dancing, boys were whistling at girls with glossy lip-gloss and tight mini skirts. Typical when your parents went out grocery shopping. They are in for a big surprise when they come home.  
  
Mary Jane's voice became audible again over the rock music. "Yeah, he's just glad you didn't give him a black eye." He laughed, leaning over onto the gate. She glanced over to our house.  
  
At my window.  
  
Duck!  
  
"What about Crissy, is she alright?" Mary Jane frowned. Suddenly, the happiness from Peter's face started to drain. "Crissy! I forgot all about her!"  
  
My heart dropped. Great. He forgot. And I still need to give back that jacket.  
  
"Weren't you there when she was at the nurses office?" MJ asked. I do not want to hear this. Nope. Not hearing this.  
  
.... What is he saying?  
  
"Yeah. But I didn't stay. I couldn't, the only thing I could leave was a jacket just to make her feel better. I had to leave, just couldn't stay, I'm supposed to act like her friend right?" Peter started talking to himself. Right in front of Mary Jane, and me, well-invisibly anyways.  
  
"Um, you are her friend though.... aren't you?" Peter stared down at the ground. He didn't say anything for a long time.  
  
My throat tightened. What- -  
  
"She's been my friend for a long time. Maybe the second one after Harry. I don't know, but she seems different. I know what it means to be as a geek, but there's something really different about her. Weird maybe."  
  
Great, one of my closest friends had just called me "Weird." How weird could I be? Yeah, sure, I do smash my macaroni and cheese with a spoon, but does that matter? How could he say something like that? I felt my throat rising again. I'm about to throw up.  
  
"Weird?"  
  
"Yeah, weird. Like for instance, she was always creepy. That's why no one really came up and spoke to her. Once we saw her making a hand gesture. Like, not the middle finger, but something else. I felt sorry for her, speaking sometimes. It lightens up Crissy sometimes."  
  
MJ laughed. "What about Vashti?" Peter shugged. "Her? They've been best friends since sixth grade." She suddenly became quiet for a moment, and glanced over to my window again. "I never knew that."  
  
I growled, that was enough then I needed to hear. Gritting my teeth, I laid back on the bed. Silence again. My chest rose violently. The sinking feeling came to me again as I thought up the songs. Mad songs.  
  
I thought he was nice. He couldn't do that. No, he couldn't do that. Peter Parker, no, you're not like that. And I'm not weird. When did I make a hand gesture? Never in my life.  
  
Kneeling over, I sat up in my bed. Numbly, I reached for the Bible. And my stuffed moose named Broose. It rhymes doesn't it? 'Yes it does.'  
  
Biting the lip, my hands found the dusty cd. They all contained my favorite songs. Some were Christian Rock, alternative, some from a couple of the plays I watched. But there was one that I was searching for now.  
  
If someone else showed you the way  
Would you take the wheel and steer?  
It hurts me that you're not ashamed  
Of what you're doing here  
If they jumped off a bridge  
Would you meet them on the ground?  
Or would you try to claim  
That it never made a sound?  
  
I flopped back down on my bed. No, it was more like hitting it. No, I am not weird. How could you say that about me Peter? I was always there for him...how could he? Now, I was mad, at him. For putting me through all this. Why couldn't he just tell me I'm a whacko?  
  
"YOU BITCH!!!"I screamed. I pumped my fists deep into the pillow. I finally took a deep breath, calm yourself. The tears came finally. Slowly, but they were tears. I told myself I couldn't love Peter, he hates me. He thinks I'm weird. It was all-fake. But now, I thought that, maybe I was a naïve little senior, stupid enough to fall for a guy who was in already in too deep for someone else.  
  
Gosh, maybe, maybe I'm overreacting. Believe me, I hated myself for thinking this way. It just seems to wrong. I'm supposed to be in control of my emotions, I'm in 12th grade, and all I'm doing is act like a spoiled baby.  
  
Everyone plays the hand they're dealt  
And learns to walk through life themselves  
Not everything in life is handed on a plate  
When people think your words are true  
It doesn't matter what you do  
I sold my soul to get here  
How about you?  
  
"He doesn't love me".... the words echoed through my mind as my eyes closed. And I finally got my sleep.  
  
**  
  
"Hey Crissy, over here!" the first thing I saw was his smile. I felt torn, it was so confusing now. Like my feelings were hard to cope with. I felt numb again.  
  
"Crissy?" Peter approached me with a frown on his face. "Are you all right? Is this about yesterday in the hall?" I felt saddened. 'No, no it isn't.'  
  
"Um, yeah I guess."  
  
"Oh, about that. Are you all right? I'm sorry I didn't stay with you, something just popped up." I shook my head a little. Please, just leave me along for a minute; I'll adjust to the fact. I don't want to go off on you Peter. You don't deserve that.  
  
"I'm okay, really, I'm fine." A couple of student stared and pointed, topic of the day. Sigh, just what I need.  
  
So you choose to force your hand  
What a strange way to make friends  
And you always change the rules  
So the drama never ends  
And you blindly go through life  
Judging only by its worth  
Just try not to forget  
That the meek inherit earth  
  
God please help me for a second. I deserved this didn't I? Just need a truthful face right now, nothing more. No more pretending, I just need to see who they are. I just need a little help here.  
  
I made my way: back to the bathroom! I laughed at the irony. This was just too sad. Here was my pathetic self again, stuffing my nose into a tissue again.  
  
Everyone plays the hand they're dealt  
And learns to walk through life themselves  
Not everything in life is handed on a plate  
When people think your words are true  
It doesn't matter what you do  
I sold my soul to get here  
How about you?  
  
Stumbling back into the open, I washed out my face. For a moment, my head turned, cocked to one side. I was not weird; actually, I'm a normal person, thank you very much. Taking a deep breath, I stepped back into the hallways.  
  
That's when I first noticed there inside surface. The next thing I knew was screaming as a blast of water sprayed from my hand. 


	13. Something you would want to forget

I screamed as water sprayed from my hands. What's happening here? My mind started spinning as the janitor came over, grumbling. Probably annoyed that another student made another mess for him.  
  
I breathed deeply. There has to be some kind of explanation. Water doesn't spray from human a hand, well, in the comics sure....  
  
No way, no way. I shook my head and covered my face. No Crissy, you got it all wrong. The Janitor looked up at me.  
  
"Hey, miss," he growled. "Are you going to class or what? I got a mess to clean up here, thanks to you."  
  
I stared at him for a second. What did he just say? Then it caught me. Oh, yeah, right.  
  
I hit the locker with my boney hips. Oops.  
  
Shaken, I headed for my homeroom leaving the janitor and whoever saw me back there. It didn't matter. Right now, the only thing I wanted to figure out was how I did that. Gosh, calm down, you don't have superpowers, you don't fly.  
  
But there was one thing I did. And I just did it, back there.  
  
Maybe I am weird.  
  
**  
  
"Crissy! Crissy!"  
  
Peter. He was calling me again.  
  
I took a small bite out my cold lasagna. It felt like a hard lump in my throat as I forced myself to gulp it down...Blech. Even though it's after school I can still eat my ah, moldy lunch right?  
  
"Hey Crissy," he said softly. I was taken aback seeing his eyes again. God, why can't I seem to get a hold of myself?  
  
"Hi Peter," Don't say anything you're going to regret. I took a deep breath. "How's life?"  
  
Peter frowned, as if he were observing me. Confused. Please don't let him see what I'm really thinking. "Fine," He said slowly. "Yourself?"  
  
He caught me there. How was my life?  
  
I sat there in silence, thinking. My life started miserably yesterday. Not to mention of what just happened in the hall.  
  
I smiled. "Great."  
  
"Doesn't seem so," he quipped. I gritted my teeth. "Really? How's that?" My voice grew higher-high- pitched.  
  
Don't panic. Don't panic.  
  
My head pounded continuously. A headache, right now. I groaned. This is not my day.  
  
"You don't seem like yourself," Peter said, his eyes traveled from my face to my hands. I froze. His eyes were gazing upon me as I quickly drew them back. My heart pounded and my palms were sweaty. Despite what he said about me, I gave away. Was that a concerned face?  
  
"I've always been myself," I laughed. After a while his expression changed. Darn.Guess I'm not a good actress as Mary Jane. Far from it maybe. My smile faded and I stepped back towards the trashcans.  
  
"Crissy what's wrong?" Peter stepped towards me, taking a hold of my free hand. "You can tell me anything. I'm your friend" My eyes hardened, maybe he did care.  
  
My eyes stung and I gulped. The sandwich hasn't gone down yet. What's wrong? My whole life completely turned up side down when you said that you were pretending to be my friend!  
  
Stop acting like that Crissy.  
  
"I-I'm fine Peter," I said, turning to face the trash cans. My face turned scarlet red. I could feel it.  
  
A bee flew down aiming for the Doritos.  
  
"I'm just feeling a little tired. You know like, um- what happened yesterday and everything."  
  
I could feel his eyes burning behind my back. Guess I'm not a good actress after all. I blew away a strand of hair. Darnit.  
  
Without saying a word he turned and left. Tear is dripping down my chin.  
  
Ick.  
  
I laughed hysterically.  
  
No, wait; it's not what you think. It sounded kind of hollow. What am I suppose to do? Sit there? I rolled my eyes. Gee, Vernardo.  
  
Maybe I can go to the movies, get my mind of things.  
  
I stopped.  
  
Oh my God, I forgot-Vashti!  
  
I checked my watch; maybe I'm not too late. Please God, don't let me be late! Not good. This is not good...  
  
Just as I heaved my black backpack over my shoulder, I made a dash for the coke machine.  
  
**  
  
"That was the best movie ever!!" I sighed dramatically, falling over onto a nearby wall. Vashti stood there, watching me as I made a fool of myself. She laughed. "Oh please Crissy," she said as I danced around the theatre lobby.  
  
"But you must admit," I grinned. "That it was a good movie."  
  
"Yes," Vashti giggled. "Of course it was." Vashti and I exited after watching the new musical on screen. Moulin Rouge. We were a little bit dazed. Alright, a tad bit more than that, but who could help the actor's good charm?  
  
"Isn't that one song from Elton John?"  
  
"Yeah," she checked her watch. "We better get to the library before it closes." I nodded, walking out of the doors, heading our way to the nearest library.  
  
. **  
  
Hmmm...  
  
"Ooo, Look at this one," Vashti shoved a manga in my face. Me? I was on the other side of the fiction rack searching for the right book. I checked a page or two and put it right back. Huh, I thought they would have a better selection here.  
  
Oh well.  
  
"Isn't that Chobits?" I squinted at the cover.Vashti nodded. "What kind of book were you looking for again?"  
  
"Uhm." I don't know.  
  
"How bout this one?"She grabbed one and handed it to me. It showed a heart mostly over the center of the road. Turning over the cover I sighed. "Yeah, I'll just take this one." We walked up to the end of the isle. My insides ached as I moved my two feet. Moving became a pain and I leaned over on the nearest shelve I could find.  
  
Right then I felt the need for some warmth. Someone to put their arms around me. I shivered again.  
  
I feel cold.  
  
A shudder went pass me. The chill ran through my spine and up my chest making me gasp for air. Right then I felt as though I was dying. God-help me!  
  
Need....air...  
  
Vashti frowned looking over at me concerned. That's the second time somebody had looked at me like that. I wonder what's wrong with me.  
  
The next thing I knew, I was collapsing on the floor.  
  
"Whoa!" Through the blurriness of my eyes and the stinging pain that arrived through my shaking arms I knew that was not Vashti's voice.  
  
That was Uncle Ben's.  
  
A hand lifted my back into the air again. I could see Vashti's worried face as I flew straight on my feet. My anger rose up to someone. Myself. I had no right to make everyone worried like that. Comeon Crissy. Get up. Right now. I closed my eyes again.  
  
God, help me through this....please.  
  
I grabbed a railing and shakily turned on my wobbly legs. I was right, that was Uncle Ben, right next to Vashti who was clutching a cell phone tightly in her hands.  
  
"No need," I said. My voice sounded a little raspy. Uncle Ben smiled. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Yeah." I nodded. Vashti looked relieved as she returned the cell phone to her pocket. My heart warmed. Good ol' Uncle Ben with his comforting smile and....baseball glove.  
  
"What's that for?" Vashti asked.  
  
"Oh this," his smile disappeared. "A little surprise for my nephew." He made eye contact. With who? Me.  
  
I have a feeling he knows more than my friendship with Peter. Don't ask me why I said that. I just know. I felt another shiver, this time not from the spine.  
  
Is that a good thing?  
  
"I feel I haven't been paying attention to him lately," the man's voice turned sober. Uncle Ben sighed and turned over the baseball over again. "This was the Mitt I got from the Yankees a couple days before, you see, he caught that ball with this glove." I smiled.  
  
"Well, he didn't catch it, but I think with a few practicing, we can do a little more out door activities." My grin grew wider. Peter in a baseball cap catching a glove before it hit him in the head? That I had to see.  
  
Peter.  
  
My grin disappeared immediately like it had with Uncle Ben's. I remembered my conversation with him earlier. Let me say that it wasn't too pleasant.  
  
"Have you seen Peter?" Vashti shook her head. Have we seen Peter? He was going to be here? I sucked in my breath. Jeez.  
  
"I see I'm not the only one thinking about Peter lately," He winked.  
  
What?  
  
Before I could say anything, Uncle Ben put a finger to his lips and smiled. "I better get going, maybe he's waiting for me at a light stop. See you later girls." After a quick peck on each of us, he left.  
  
But even then I didn't know that was the last time we would ever have a live conversation with him before he went to live with the angels.  
  
"I think we should be going to," Vashti sighed. "You want to go to the desk now?" I turned back towards the doors. "Sure."  
  
We submitted our cards to the librarian and patiently waited. She slid cards into our books. "Enjoy."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Anytime," she answered. Vashti pushed the doors open as we stepped into the cold night air. I pulled my jacket around my arms.  
  
"It's cold out here," I yawned. She nodded in agreement. Way too cold.  
  
That's when I saw the most horrible thing in my life.  
  
There was Uncle Ben, all alone, laying on the sidewalk. I ran over. Uncle Ben! Blood was running down his coat. He opened them.  
  
"Vashti, Crissy,"He whispered struggling to breath. It was strange, I was just doing the same thing earlier. Tears rolled down my cheeks. No, No, Uncle Ben can't die he can't. No, I won't let him die.  
  
"It's okay, Uncle Ben, you're going to be fine," I turned to Vashti remembering she had her cell phone. "Call the cops!" She grabbed the phone out of her purse and dialed 911. Vashti started to sob.  
  
"Please come quick!" She screamed. "Uncle Ben-Uncle Ben's been shot!" Her hands began to shake.  
  
"We're in downtown library, right out side." I held onto the bleeding uncle and cried uncontrollably. This can't be happening.  
  
I checked his pulse, and then the other. The glove was still there, fastened in place. The glove he was supposed to play with. And I realized: He may never get to do that with his nephew. He may never be there, working on his white little car, inviting me, Vashti, and Peter to join.  
  
Crissy, calm down, he is not going to d-die.  
  
I held onto his gloved hand until the paramedics came. Gary, an EMT, shook his head hopelessly. Uncle Ben wasn't going to make it.  
  
I and Vashti cried into each other's shoulders, books still hanging from her arm. A policewoman asked her if a cup of coffee would help.  
  
I managed a hint of anger rising. Coffee? Right now? Right when one of the kindest man was dying?  
  
Right before we could move away from the obnoxious lady, Peter arrived. A spider was shown upon his red shirt. I cried harder. Peter, please make this all better. I prayed hard, I really did.  
  
But as Peter kneeled there, looking so helpless, I knew that Uncle Ben wasn't coming back.  
  
"No," Vashti gasped. Whispering a few words I couldn't make out, Peter watched as Uncle Ben opened his eyes. He's going to live. Please, don't die, I screamed silently.  
  
"Peter," a gap was seen from his chest. Blood was pouring out non-stop. "Peter."  
  
He sobbed.  
  
Uncle Ben let go of his hand. He was dead. I shook my head. No, No please.  
  
Peter's shoulders started to shake when he saw the baseball glove. He was heartbroken. A few paramedics came, and took Uncle Ben away. I didn't accept it, like the rest of them. I remembered his smile, the wink, the kiss.  
  
I ducked over the police line. The police didn't seem to notice. The man was gone anyways.  
  
"Peter, "I knelt besides him, drawing in a hug. He returned the gesture, desperately clinging to my neck.  
  
"We found the guy, he's over at the abandoned apartment," the policewoman looked at us. I looked back "Are you kids going to be okay?" I gritted my teeth. Far from it. But Peter didn't say anything, only stood up-with a new look in the blue crystal eyes.  
  
Determination.  
  
I was now the only one keeling in the crowd of onlookers before Vashti came and took me away, tears staining her cheeks.  
  
The only thing we could have relied on was the policeman. And God. 


	14. Graduation Morning

Vashti and I slowly walked home, thinking of what just happened an hour ago. I stared at my feet as I walked. I didn't want to go home yet, not after tonight. I still wanted to comfort Peter instead of being far away from him.  
  
"Crissy?"  
  
"Yeah?" I turned to face Vashti who nervously looked at me, and the building before us.  
  
It was the warehouse. The one the murderer should be hiding in. I took a step back. "I don't want to go over there," I whispered. Anywhere but there. Vashti nodded herself.  
  
"I don't want to go over there either, but," she said. "It's the only way to the subway station before the last train leaves."  
  
No.  
  
I sighed."Ok." I started toward the building despite the sick feeling in my stomach.  
  
I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this....  
  
I stopped suddenly as Vashti caught up with me. There was dozens of police cars surrounding the west side of the old warehouse. A spotlight was searching along the windows.  
  
Instantly my fear was gone, only replaced by anger. I was wishing that the man would be caught and go to jail. He deserved it.  
  
He deserved it....  
  
"Excuse me?" A man came up to us flashing his badge. Cop obviously. "This area is being block of for now," he said. His eyes searched us up and down as if he was observing anything that was suspicious about us.  
  
"What are you two doing here anyways? You're not suppose to be here, anyways," The man smirked. "If you have any thing you want to do over here you can always find me."  
  
My mouth dropped open. Did he know we had something to do with this? Hands are starting to shake. Did you know we watched an innocent man die?  
  
Calm down Crissy.  
  
I started to breath again. God help me.  
  
Vashti stepped in, her face turned serious as she looked straight at the policeman defiantly. "We happen to be close friends of the family," she said politely. "And we were also going home right now. So if we can go home right now, we can actually comfort a lady who is in grief over her husband."  
  
I think it knocked the guy out of his stride. His expression softened as he apologizes. "I'm sorry," he scratched the back of his neck.  
  
"I guess we are all a little tense about this whole thing. By the way, do you two need a ride?" I found myself shaking my head.  
  
"We'll walk, thanks," I told him. I want to get out of this nightmare. Now.  
  
I admit it.  
  
...Maybe we should've taken the ride.  
  
Vashti shivered as she zipped her jacket. The back of the building looked better in daylight. But in the dark-no way.  
  
I trembled remembering the body of Uncle Ben. I've seen death before, really. When I was seven, a man from a church I used to attend was being treated for cancer.  
  
And he died.  
  
I still remember the man lying in bed. I recalled how he used to tell me little comments. I didn't really, like, know him much, but I was sure he was a nice man.  
  
I tried to block the memories. I wanted to forget it. Heck, especially after tonight. But no, my mind kept telling me. I didn't know the man, but I saw death. In that dim light I saw death.  
  
"Crissy, are you okay?" Vashti looked over at me. But I wasn't there. That fact is, that man preached to us, and now he's gone, lying in his bed. Yeah.  
  
If you haven't guessed it by now, the guy was our preacher.  
  
"I'm fine," I said. We walked quietly once more. Just five more blocks, then you can can go home Crissy. You can go home and go to bed, pretend nothing happened.  
  
But what about Aunt May? And Peter? No of course, I can't forget it; I need to be there for both of them. So actually I wasn't fine.  
  
Then a figure leaped in front of me.  
  
I screamed. What was that? When Vashti turned around, she was frozen. We both were. Omigosh.... I felt a feeling of dread. God, don't let us down now, please. Help us.  
  
The shadow crept closer.  
  
I believe that.  
  
But all I encountered was his eyes, those blue eyes. Their iris was gleaming in the moonlight. I felt captured in them.  
  
Wow.  
  
It was sad eyes though, mournful. For those few moments it told me what they were going through, the pain they felt. My chest rose as I let the anger came through. I frowned what was wrong with me? The only guy that could make me feel this way was....  
  
Peter.  
  
Was that him? Was that Peter Parker?  
  
"Peter? Is that you?" That was when I saw the spider symbol. Plainly as broad daylight. Ok, maybe not daylight, but still. I could see it.  
  
"I-I," It stuttered. Definitely a human, I don't think a sci-fi being could talk, could they? I waited for a minute. Was that really him? Was that really my friend from the first grade, doing all those-stunts? It leapt out of my way without an answer. Darn.  
  
"Crissy?" I realized where I was sitting. On the floor. I searched through the shadows of the garbage can finally spotting Vashti who was standing in a nearby corner. Her face looked a little shaken, mostly confused. I didn't blame her. Who was he?  
  
"Are you okay?" I said. She nodded. "Who was that?" She walked towards me cautiously to see if I was hurt.  
  
Thank God she wasn't.  
  
"I don't know," I said. Words weren't spoken on the way home. We both just wanted to think for a moment.  
  
But all I could think of was Peter. Maybe I wasn't there for him when he need me most. Or maybe he didn't need me at all. Did he?  
  
I didn't care if Peter wasn't going to or not. I wanted to be there for him. Which starts now.  
  
"Peter?" I waited as the door creaked opened. Aunt May was dressed in her flannel nightgown. Her expression was welcoming enough that I almost chocked on my words. It spoke clearly. She didn't know.  
  
Tears began to form in my eyes. She didn't know. I wanted to put my arms around the woman, comfort her. But how could I when she didn't know?  
  
There was a knock on the door. Vashti turned to get it. I stayed with Aunt May, comforting her silently.  
  
Suddenly Peter appeared. Trailing behind him was Vashti. He was going to tell her. Oh God.... I closed my eyes.  
  
"Peter?" She frowned, confused. "What's wrong?"  
  
"Aunt May..."  
  
I trembled hearing those words all over again. "Aunt May, Uncle Ben was shot, he passed away," he said. "A robber shot him and now he's-dead."  
  
I heard her gasp. The poor, poor woman.  
  
Tears streamed from his eyes as he pulled the mourning woman in his arms.  
  
"The robber's dead now," Peter said. I nodded as a sob started to climb up my throat. Slipping through the doorway, Vashti led our way to the street lamps. They needed each other right now. And we were just a distraction.  
  
But hours later as I lay on my bed sheets, I couldn't take it anymore. All the questions came rushing at me.  
  
Who was that man? Did he have anything to do with the warehouse? Why was he there? And what the heck was he doing? I shivered, feeling the cool breeze lingering in my room.  
  
But most of all, will Peter open up to me?  
  
I frowned. I couldn't blame him if he didn't. It was an hour ago since Uncle Ben was covered and carried away on a stretcher.  
  
And I miss him already.  
  
Goodbye Uncle Ben. Goodbye.  
  
What were the first words that popped in my head? Peter. And graduation day.  
  
I woke up two weeks later, feeling the dawn breeze. It was the very end of the school year. Our graduation day. I grinned and rolled over on the bed- to the floor.  
  
Oww.  
  
That hurt...but that won't keep me from my happiness!  
  
I sneezed, reaching for a tissue box. Allergies coming.  
  
I faced myself to the mirror in my checkered PJ's and-well, bed hair. My smile faded for a moment as a reminder of Uncle Ben came into my head. I glanced outside and to the house just across from the street. He wouldn't be here for the graduation.  
  
Then there was that kitchen smell. The good thoughts came back, thank you God.  
  
IT'S GRADUATION DAY!!!  
  
I sniffed, this time not from one of my sneezing fits.  
  
Was that French toast?  
  
I jumped down the steps in big leaps. I know what you're thinking, but this day didn't come all the time right?  
  
I checked my hands again. No, water didn't appear from my hands in the past few days. I guess I should be grateful for that.  
  
Shouldn't I?  
  
I sighed looking at the blue dress and hat draped over the table chair. I missed the man. A lot.  
  
Mom called out from the kitchen. "Breakfast's ready!" I hugged my mom, after all those memories, I needed to.  
  
I sat down. How long since I felt like this?  
  
Crissy, pay attention to the food.  
  
Right.  
  
This was turning out to be a very good day.  
  
"Let me take care of your hat."  
  
"I can't get it on straight."  
  
Vashti was standing behind me, Crissy. Her triangular hat was on already, she was already done. Me? I couldn't get my hat on, that's what. Just turn it there, position it on the center of my head and....  
  
Whatever.  
  
She giggled. "Here, like this," she took my hat and turned it sideways, placing it on top of my head...or hair. It fit perfectly.  
  
I rolled my eyes. I'm never meant for projects if you get what I mean.  
  
"Fine, fine," I threw up my hands. "I'll never catch up with these things. We're going to pick up Peter at his house right?"  
  
"Yeah, we'll meet up with Harry at the gate."  
  
I sighed. It came and I couldn't even put on my hat correctly. "It was too fast," I said. Vashti nodded, agreeing. School went way too fast.  
  
At least we have college to look forward to. I think.  
  
I walked toward Peter's door, anxiously, nervously. God Crissy. Calm down.  
  
But I couldn't.  
  
I knocked on the door. Once, Twice. Vashti was right besides me. I looked around, it has never changed.  
  
There was even the green lawn. It was a few years ago since Peter accidently hit me with baseball. Yep. He wasn't really experienced with one, but I wasn't either.  
  
Yet still, it was a baseball-In the head. Painful, yes, but something we could remember.  
  
More memories came.  
  
The smell of cookies was the thing you would encounter in a kitchen like the Parkers. Peter, Harry, Vashti and I used to come running in here grabbing a chocolate chip cookie. Okay, it was one at a time, but we finished it in an hour or so.  
  
I'm going to miss this.  
  
"Aunt May?" We both walked up to Aunt May. She turned in surprise and laughed, hugging us both with a peck on the cheek.  
  
"Hello Vashti, Crissy. Peter's upstairs, getting ready. You can go up there, its all right," she winked. But I could see the sorrow in her eyes. She still missed Uncle Ben. We all did.  
  
"How bout if you stay here Vashti. We can eat cookies and wait for Harry." Aunt May handed her a cookie. Vashti looked at me as I frowned.  
  
What?  
  
"But I thought he was meeting us up at the gate," I protested. What was she up to?  
  
Aunt May laughed, a twinkle in her eyes. "Harry changed his mind, He wanted to meet here."  
  
My mouth dropped open and I shook my head.  
  
"Sure, I'll do that," Vashti said. I sighed. Great. As I climbed up the stairs, I turned around. They were out of sight. Climbing up the stairs, I could hear their laughter from the kitchen. Those devious women...  
  
I took a deep breath. Then knocked.  
  
"Come in."  
  
I want to get out of here. But his voice was soft. I couldn't resist. I opened the door.  
  
And there was Peter. Crying. My insides started to relax and my arms started to tense. I wanted to walk up to him and comfort him. Be with the boy forever. Uncle Ben's picture was in his hands.  
  
Omigosh.  
  
"Peter?" I walked up to him and sat down. "What's wrong?" Dumb question, I know.  
  
"I killed him."  
  
I frowned. "Who did you kill Peter?" What was he talking about? Why would he kill someone? Peter couldn't, he was well, too kind.  
  
Like Uncle Ben.  
  
"I'm sorry Crissy," Peter said.  
  
I shook my head. It wasn't his fault. I was just something worthless. Why care? "It wasn't your fault Peter, I was just.... I was just having some problems," I said...  
  
To the wall.  
  
My legs turned shaky. Why did he make me feel this way?  
  
"I'm sorry," He repeated. But this time he looked into me. Right into me. Could he see what I was feeling? Could he?  
  
"It's okay Peter," I said. Really, why should he be apologizing?  
  
He shouldn't.  
  
Then the doorbell rang. A burst of laughter came from downstairs. I prayed silently. And talked to Uncle Ben.  
  
Please help him, Uncle Ben. Peter needs you more than ever.  
  
"That should be Harry," I grinned. I put my arms around him and tugged. His hat fell off.  
  
Oops.  
  
"Sorry, maybe Vashti can fix that," I rolled my eyes.  
  
Peter smiled at me. "Thanks for being a friend Cris." His blue eyes looked the same. Yet they were beautiful. If only you knew how I feel Peter Parker.  
  
"Hey guys!" Harry called from the stairs. "Lets go get our diplomas!"  
  
Guess that would have to wait. 


	15. Heights

"Crissy Vernardo."  
  
I stepped onto the platform and looked all around.  
  
I saw Vashti screaming my name as she sat cross-legged on the grass. Mom was screaming. I looked and saw Peter smiling expectantly as he clutched his diploma. His blue eyes never came off me. Harry...  
  
I don't know what Harry was doing.  
  
We were sitting on the football field as everyone else was waving things around. Balloons, posters, and even a collage of pictures.  
  
The thing is, we don't have chairs. Nothing to sit on except.... well, the grass. Me? I was standing on the platform, turning my back to the principle Ms. Flower.  
  
Frozen.  
  
I saw Peter's eyes on mine. They were calm quiet, but filled with kindness. Heck, sometimes filled with love. But I would never see that look. Only the look of friendship.  
  
I sighed. My sadness came up to the surface. I gritted my teeth. No. I will not be sad. At least, not today.  
  
She cleared his throat.  
  
"Huh? Oh, um, sorry," I said. She raised her eyebrow. I didn't say anything. I didn't want to let anyone know who I was staring at right? But I wanted him to know. I wanted Peter to know.  
  
Oh well.  
  
After I received my diploma, I stopped at the camera and smiled. I just wanted to get this over with. Be united with my friends and family. That's the real part of the ceremony isn't it?  
  
I took my place next to Peter. His smile was still directed at me. He didn't say anything...  
  
But what was he thinking?  
  
No, Crissy, it was just a smile of friendship. Nothing more.  
  
"Tired?"  
  
"Not really," I said. That's when I yawned again. Peter's smile went wider.  
  
"Vashti Diaz."  
  
Okay, I admit it. I was tired. But I still wanted to see Vashti getting her diploma. I took my camera case out and aimed. Maybe I'm not that good a photographer, but I can get a decent picture.  
  
I think.  
  
My hands were shaking slightly as I tried to aim. Even when I took a shot.... let's just say it didn't come out right. Peter noticed my photo. And he saw it- still trying not to laugh.  
  
I took a picture of her feet.  
  
He took my hand and held it. I shook. What was he doing? Holding me steady, he nodded. I should have taken the shot. But I was speechless.  
  
Why am I feeling this way? I've touched his hand many times before. Especially when we were little. So why was I shaking?  
  
But as I looked at him...  
  
His smile had faded.  
  
"Peter?" I frowned. Is he all right?  
  
His blue eyes seemed lost, lost in Mary Jane. That's when I realized Vashti was sitting a row from me.... and MJ was on the platform.  
  
She looked at me and smiled. I screamed her name, clapping a few times. She's my friend right? I have to clap for her.  
  
Don't think about it-for now.  
  
I sighed. Right.  
  
I looked up back at Peter before he went inside.  
  
"I'll miss you," I said.  
  
I looked down at my feet. The porch still remained sturdy after that accident so many years ago. Strange how these memories came back to me.  
  
Peter had fell through the porch before. I remember his expression as I helped him up. As I was pulling, his expression was not terrified, but excited. He was giggling. Peter may have been weak, but he was brave.  
  
Brave even when Flash beat him. Brave when someone tripped him. He was brave by enduring. "Aren't you going to be living with Vashti?" he asked. I frowned. Where was I again?  
  
Oh yeah, the front porch.  
  
I felt something wet. I backed away. Oh God no, Crissy. Don't cry. Not now.  
  
Please don't cry.  
  
God, why am I crying?  
  
"Um, yeah, I think so. Why?"  
  
Well, he wasn't answering my question. Not directly anyways.  
  
"Five blocks...then.... that would mean you and Vashti would be about a block from our apartment."  
  
Really? I felt a smile on my face.  
  
Then it disappeared.  
  
Why would I be excited about this anyways? Peter will still love MJ. And I can't change that. No one can. Why am I even trying? I'm pathetic.  
  
"So I'll be seeing you then," he said smiling.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Peter was smiling.  
  
I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears.  
  
Maybe that's what I should ask for. I mean, for him to be happy. I don't want to think about myself. Peter's my friend.  
  
But that's okay. And-I will probably never admit my feelings. Peter's smile, his smile of friendship, approval....  
  
That's all I need to ever ask from him. As Crissy Vernardo.  
  
"Wait, could you give me that box."  
  
"This one?"  
  
"Yes please." I stood in front of Vashti. I balanced a box on my knee. On the stairs. Vashti kneeled besides me checking the boxes.  
  
I was moving into her apartment. After the paper work, after the planning, the goodbyes, I was moving away from Queens.  
  
Now there is one thing I'm afraid of. Heights. And this apartment-well, lets just say I'll have to get adjusted.  
  
Vashti grunted. She lifted the box into my arms balancing it on my arms carefully. I giggled despite the acing in my arms. It was a moving day right?  
  
"Harry and Peter are coming over soon," Vashti looked at her clock. "Maybe any time now."  
  
I looked down the stairs.  
  
Oh no.  
  
Great. I had forgotten to bring a box up. The important box with all my journals, my notes. I had to get it up here.  
  
"Look, I forgot something, it's in the alley. I'll be back," hopping over the boxes, I made my way to the door.  
  
"Okay," Vashti said, looking over her shoulder. But I knew she was hesitating. She pressed her lips together and closed the fridge.  
  
"Just be careful," she said.  
  
What? I turned back. What did she mean about that? But as I turned, she was already had gone back to her room.  
  
Climbing down the stairs, I finally reached the bottom. That was when I felt the chill that went through me.  
  
It's okay Crissy. God will protect me. You'll protect me God, you'll protect everyone right?  
  
A click was heard.  
  
I clenched my fists. God will protect you Crissy. You got to believe that.  
  
I turned around. A man grinned at me behind a ski mask. In his hand he held a dagger. Crook. My breath caught in my throat. Backing away? No, that didn't do any good. It never has.  
  
But I didn't listen to my thoughts. The only thing was to get out of here. Now. The only problem was figuring out how to do that.  
  
"Hi," I watched as his hand squeezed the handle.  
  
I was going to die. I backed away, and he kept coming.  
  
"I don't have money," I said.  
  
I waited for his response. I didn't get one. Why would he believe me anyways? That's what victims always say. I was a victim.  
  
Right then, I needed someone to hold me. Now.  
  
Mom, Peter, Vashti, am I going to see you again? Feeling alone right now, it doesn't feel good. It doesn't feel good at all.  
  
Someone please help me.  
  
I closed my eyes and waited. Waited for a punch, a kick, anything. But I got nothing.  
  
All I felt was air.  
  
Well, I was supposed to be dying. And this, this was not dying. Instead, I opened my eyes. I turned my head to the person who was holding me.  
  
My hands started to shake. Just like it did with Peter. But this situation was different.  
  
Was it even human? But as I looked at it-its face, it had no eyes. Just white. His face was completely covered. And his clothes....  
  
I didn't know what to say. Was I supposed to say anything? What if this- person wasn't really saving me? What if he was as bad as the crook?  
  
There was no time to answer that. I felt nauseous and definitely needed a breather. "Put me down, "I whispered.  
  
He shook his head helplessly. "I can't" I looked down.  
  
Were those cars?  
  
I looked back at him. "Put me down," I repeated. My stomach churned over again.  
  
I'm going to be sick. My eyes closed again then opened. His hand made a gesture, and we were dropping down to the street all over again.  
  
Oh god. Please put me down. Please put me down...  
  
I clenched tightly to whatever my hand was holding to. My head was getting dizzy and drool was coming from the corner of my mouth. Great.  
  
My feet touched ground. Thank God. I could feel ground again.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
I didn't answer. At least, not yet. I took a deep breath. My sensation was over and all I could feel was the warmth of his body.  
  
The warmth of his body.  
  
Shaking, I held myself steady. Black webs, black webs all over his body. Yet his voice felt warm, and I held on tighter. I didn't want to let go. I knew it was okay now. But God, was this my savior? Who was he?  
  
And why did he save me?  
  
"Thanks," I said.  
  
"No problem." I looked into his eyes. There were none. But he seemed concerned-and his arm gripped my hand harder. "Are you alright?"  
  
Why would he? He doesn't know me. So why was I holding onto him? The danger was over, all was safe now.  
  
The only person who made me feel this way was...  
  
Peter.  
  
Suddenly I let go. "Sorry."  
  
He shook his head. "There's nothing to be sorry about Crissy. I-I'm just glad you're okay. Do you want me to take you home?"  
  
I backed away from him.  
  
"How do you know my name?" 


	16. Reaction

"How do you know my name?"  
  
I was standing there, with a man I hardly knew. And he knew my name. Well, who knows my name? I'm just Crissy. I mean, seriously, there's nothing really special about me really.  
  
Who was he?  
  
"I don't know," he said.  
  
"Then...I mean," I shook my head. "Crissy. That's my name."  
  
"Maybe you didn't hear me correctly," He turned away. Now I was confused. I didn't want to bother him, you know? I don't know, but I don't want to question him. Strange how I feel that way. I know, but I just don't want to make his life harder you know?  
  
Oh, I don't know. After the robber I didn't know what to think.  
  
"Wait, what?" I covered my head. I don't get this. What just happened? Why was he confusing me?  
  
"Maybe you heard me wrong," he repeated. He squeezed my side. "Do you want me to take you home?"  
  
"Why are you holding me?" I whispered.  
  
"Huh? Oh, I'm sorry," He let go. Just like me. Great, why is my head confused? I'm not thinking straight anymore. Once again I'm full of questions. And now I can't answer them.  
  
"I know you." I stopped and backed away. Why did I just say that? I don't even know him. So why did I just say that? It was like an understanding that me, myself, didn't even know of.  
  
"No, you don't. My name's Spiderman," His mask didn't show anything. So maybe I don't know him.  
  
Tears sprang to my eyes.  
  
I realized. I was in shock. Was that why I was getting so worked up about my name? I knew this man... But I couldn't even explain that to myself. It was like a weird connection between what I knew.  
  
And what I didn't.  
  
"Crissy? Are you okay?" He pulled me back into his arms. "It's okay. I understand, it's all right." It felt comforting, but confusing. What was he talking about?  
  
"Your name's Spiderman?" Funny, I thought I could be in control of my emotions. I mean, I felt this before. Which made this a lot more confusing.  
  
"Yeah," His voice was muffled. It was light, but comforting at the same time. I knew I had to come back. To myself I mean.  
  
And that was to get back.  
  
"Spiderman, take me home- please," I couldn't recognize my voice. It was the same thing with Peter. But I never felt it for another man. I wasn't going to let myself sink into confusion this way without answers.  
  
I just need to clear my head.  
  
"Okay." I nodded. I closed my eyes, ready to fall.  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
I opened my eyes again. He was reluctant. I mean, who could blame him? It was hard for him to calm me down just now. Who would want to go through that again?  
  
"How about we just walk?"  
  
I frowned. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Do you want me to swing from rooftop at a time? It would be a lot easier." He seemed careful to put my arm around me. I shook my head.  
  
"Sorry-it's just that...I mean, sorry. But I don't. I don't." I walked over to see the edge.  
  
Lets just say that was a bad idea. Yet that's when I found myself. I was me again. Then I remembered losing myself. To a complete stranger.  
  
I just did that?  
  
"Crissy?"  
  
I turned to look at him. Spiderman, I mean. "Don't call me Crissy. Please, you get me really confused when you say that."  
  
I don't know where it came from. But how can I be ungrateful? I mean, seriously, he saved my life, and here I am giving him a hard time. How cruel could I be?  
  
"Sorry, I didn't mean that." I looked down at the floor.  
  
"It's okay," he said aiming his finger. He looked back at me. "Ready?"  
  
I nodded. "Yes." My voice seemed dull. Or maybe just numb. How am I going to explain this? To Vashti I mean.  
  
I landed on the ground. I didn't close my eyes. Just smiled at Spiderman. I had to show him I was grateful.  
  
"Thanks," I said.  
  
His voice seemed soft as he spoke. "You're welcome."  
  
I still stayed there.  
  
"Sorry I panicked on you," what else was I supposed to say? Weird, how my voice seems different.  
  
What is wrong with me?  
  
I was rescued. And I thanked God for that. But the whole thing. It feels that I've never done that before. Like I can never form my words into one answer.  
  
"I'm just glad you're alright. Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman," He swung off. And I still stood there.  
  
Time to go inside Crissy.  
  
I sighed. Coming through the screen door, I didn't see any boxes. Must have been cleared when I was gone.  
  
That means I didn't help Vashti. That means I didn't help any of them. I didn't even think about it. Why didn't I think about it?  
  
I entered the living room.  
  
Harry and Vashti were sitting on the couch.  
  
She looked up at me and smiled. "I found the journal at the door step," she said. I looked besides her. My journals were there. How long was I gone?  
  
I looked in at the clock. It was only a while since I came up. I was gone long. What was going on here?  
  
I frowned. "Oh, um, thanks." Maybe she just thought that I had trouble finding it. Or something like that.  
  
Harry looked up from the movie. "Hey Crissy."  
  
Well, I was taken back. Who wouldn't? Harry never liked to talk to me. I mean, maybe he was trying to be friendly-for once.  
  
Oh, I don't know. "Hi," I said. "What are you guys watching?"  
  
"Nothing really," he yawned. "I'm going to go now. Bye Vashti." He walked out of the room.  
  
Vashti took a deep breath and stood up. There was nothing to say really. We were both tired.  
  
I don't know anymore. To figure out my thoughts. Maybe I'm just tired. Or just shaken. But I needed sleep, nothing more. That's it. I'm just tired. So what's wrong with me?  
  
Have you ever felt numb before? Don't know what to say? I looked back at Vashti. She didn't look at me in disgust. But shocked. Just shocked.  
  
"Crissy," she looked at my hands.  
  
Oh no.  
  
Water was dripping from my hands and onto the carpet floor. But my hand wasn't wet. It was happening again. It was like I was feeling a sensation again. I know, that sounds strange. But it was happening.  
  
What am I supposed to do now?  
  
I held my stomach. It hurt. It hurt so badly. I dropped to the floor.  
  
It dripped.  
  
Vashti didn't stand there for long. She seemed nervous. Neither of us knew what to do.  
  
"Hold on Crissy, I'll get-some help. Somewhere."  
  
Vashti took one last look at me. I didn't pass out this time. At least, not yet. I gripped my stomach harder.  
  
And waited. 


End file.
